


know no future (damn the past)

by serenitysea



Series: remember how it all began [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2860175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitysea/pseuds/serenitysea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it hurts too much. it hurts all the time. </p><p>so she gets rid of what hurts her.</p><p>or: </p><p>skye gets amnesia and forgets everything about ward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	know no future (damn the past)

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY SO. yesterday i opened up my askbox for prompts and this one was for skye to forget everything about ward and THEN THIS HAPPENED. spoilers midway through the first part of... season two. 
> 
> \+ title comes from natalie merchant's _thick as thieves_.
> 
> \+ i'm also going to slap a warning on this because it's... voluntary memory loss? like the opposite of the voluntary memory retrieval that coulson underwent? so don't read if you're uncomfortable.

She wakes up one morning and there’s a curious pocket of _nothing_ in her head. 

It’s weird, because she feels like something should be there.  
  
Like how it feels when you get a tooth pulled and there’s just that _cavity_ of space.  
  
She probes at it, trying to find the boundaries but it just. There aren’t any. She can’t seem to find a beginning. Or an end. Or a middle, really.

She can’t find anything.  
  
She gets a funny sort of tickle when she looks at the leather jacket draped across her chair. But nothing else.  
  
She closes her eyes and goes back to sleep.  
  
*  
  
Skye likes coffee.  
  
No.  
  
Skye _lives_ for coffee.  
  
Trip finds her in the kitchen, doctoring a mug of extra dark roast with a dollop of half and half and staring like he’s afraid she’s going to shatter into a million pieces.  
  
"What?" She gives him a funny look. "It hasn’t curdled. Coulson made a run for good beans last time we were out. I’m not going to throw down when I have my lifeblood here."  
  
"No," Trip coughs, awkwardly shoving a hand in his pocket and trying to make it seem like he isn’t watching her with eagle eyes. "I guess you wouldn’t."  
  
She gulps down the last of it and goes about making a fresh cup while automatically setting him up for some coffee of his own. Skye pushes the mug across the counter and raises her eyebrows. “What gives?”  
  
He is still scrutinizing her pretty closely and it’s starting to make her uncomfortable. “You feelin’ okay?”  
  
Skye laughs in disbelief. “Trip, are _you_ okay?”  
  
"Yeah, I…" He rubs at the back of his neck restlessly. She keeps her eyes on him and something seems to shift and lockdown in his posture. When Trip looks up at her again, it’s with the blinding smile she loves so much. "Need some of that," he reaches for his mug gratefully and winks over the top. "Fitzsimmons were arguing last night and I couldn’t sleep much after that."  
  
"So I guess that means I’m going to kick your ass when we spar," Skye calls over her shoulder, flashing him a mischievous grin.  
  
"Don’t get cocky," Trip chides, following her out of the kitchen and down the halls.  
  
When they’re almost to the gym, she happens to look in one of the open doorways of the smaller labs. There is a strange looking, big white machine inside. Her steps unconsciously slow down until she’s stopped, staring at it in fixation.  
  
The fuzzy, empty place in her mind begins to throb slowly.  
  
Skye squints and focuses more tightly on the loose thread that has started to unravel inside her thoughts.  
  
The throb turns into a sharp pain that leaves her gasping and then —  
  
— everything fades to black.  
  
*  
  
When she comes to, there’s about six different voices yelling angrily and vying for mental processing as she attempts to match them to their owners.  
  
"— could you be _so_ _careless_?”  
  
"— always go a different path, she was already walking by the time I caught up with her, sir —"  
  
"— another one of us is down for the count and this time Hydra had nothing to do with it; _smashing_ team you’ve got here, Bob —”  
  
"— we didn’t know what kind of side effects the treatment would have and —"  
  
"— _shut up_ Hunter, you know this has nothing to do with that and it was her choice —”  
  
"— _stop_.”  
  
  
It’s the last voice that brings the rest of them to a screeching halt and Skye takes that as her cue to open her eyes slowly.  
  
May is there, immediately offering a hand and pulling her to her feet. “You okay?” May is brisk and calm, not favoring her with any weird looks or the painfully obvious wide berth that everyone else seems to be giving right now.  
  
"Fine," Skye exhales deeply, trying to catch Trip’s attention so that they can go back to their original plans of training in the gym. When he refuses to look at her and goes so far as to walk in the opposite direction, Skye swings her gaze back around to her SO.  
  
(The tickle in the back of her mind starts anew and she ruthlessly shoves it down. There’s work to do now.)  
  
"Can we train?"  
  
May nods in approval. “Meet you in two minutes.”  
  
The matter having thus been settled, Skye shrugs at Lance and Bobbi (the former who is still staring at her strangely; the latter, watching her with an appraising glance before shoving her elbow in his stomach) and flashes a quick smile to Jemma and Coulson before continuing on her way.  
  
She distantly hears May snapping out a few orders to the lingering team and rolls her eyes.  
  
Thank god.  
  
May didn’t tolerate fools and she certainly had more important things to deal with than a stupid fainting spell in the hall.  
  
At least _someone_ knew what was going on.  
  
*  
  
Jemma is clutching her hand like a lifeline, and her eyes are fierce and wet. “Skye, please don’t do this, there’s got to be another way and I’m positive that if we just —”  
  
"Jem." Skye bites her lip and lifts a hand to Jemma’s cheek, thumbing away one of the tears that have escaped. "I _can’t_ anymore.”  
  
( _There is a weight on her chest that hurts every time she draws breath. It’s got warm brown eyes and strong arms and a jaw that clenches with emotion. It’s fond exasperation and bitter frustration and a voice that echoes and drips like honey deep in her dreams. It’s the feeling of losing something she never should have ever hoped for and stupidly, **selfishly** took hold of when she knew better._ )  
  
(It’s too _much_.)  
  
She lifts her neck to glance at the restraints on her legs and calmly drops her arm, fingers wiggling restlessly. “Now c’mon. There’s no one I trust more and the sooner we start this, the sooner it will be over.”  
  
Jemma hiccups once with the effort of holding back the roiling mass of tears that are threatening to break free. “Right.” She takes a deep breath and visibly steps into that clinical, detached tone when it is easier to become _Dr Simmons_ because _Jemma_ would just devastate her. “If you would just relax and start counting back from ten, we’ll begin.”  
  
"See you on the flip side." Skye winks at her. The restraints settle tightly over her wrists and she has a split second where she has to fight down the panic rising in her throat. She takes a deep breath. "Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six."

"Five."  
  
( _it’s true—_ )  
  
"Four."  
  
( _someday you’ll understand._ )  
  
"Three."  
  
( _aren’t you a sight for sore eyes._ )  
  
"Two."  
  
( _— and so will be every word i say to you for the rest of my life._ )  
  
"On— "  
  
  
*  
  
but what good  
  
is the _rest of your life_  
  
if she doesn’t _remember_ you  
  
at all?

**Author's Note:**

> \+ i am REALLY REALLY SORRY.  
> \+ [tumblr](http://b-isforbombshell.tumblr.com)


End file.
